To Fall or to Fly
by Rosesandravens
Summary: We all know the original story, but what happened afterwards? What if Peter Pan struggled to keep hold of his happy thoughts and Neverland began to change? What will it take to return the boy and his island to their former glory?
1. 1 (10-30 08:17:29)

**A/N - We all love a good Peter Pan story, so I've decided to take on my own. **

**I have a rough idea of where it's headed but for now, this is my own little adventure and I hope you like it! **

*****

The sun had not long set when Wendy sat at the large window in her bedroom and placed her book in her lap. Sighing, she looked up toward the crisp, clear night sky, taking in the thick blanket of stars spread out before her.

Book long forgotten as her fingers drummed silently against the worn leather cover, her thoughts drifted in to the sky, as they often did, towards a certain boy. A boy who once visited Wendy in the dead of night and changed her life forever. A boy who since her return home, had never visited again despite his promise to.

It had been five years, five whole years but it felt like much much longer.

Wendy was no longer the naive child who had blindly followed a stranger in to the unknown in seek of nothing but adventure. She was no longer the short, mousey and vulnerable little girl she was back then.

A lot had changed, a lot of time had passed and sometimes, she found it hard to believe her time in Neverland wasn't just a dream, an elaborate trick played on her by her over zealous mind. But the snoring boys in the next room reminded her that her time on the far-off island was indeed real. The Lost Boys. The six youngsters who had returned home with Wendy, Michael and John and who had slotted (albeit with a few minor misdemeanours) back in to normal life as part of the Darling family.

Wendy smiled fondly as she remembered the hushed shocked whispers of the neighbours as the Darling's new family members ran around the cobbled street outside their grand home, crowing in to sky and playfully beating each other in to submission as young unruly boys do.

Given time the boys learned to tone down their exuberance but even Mr Darling never tried to damped their spirits.

They were Neverland personified and Wendy loved them all so dearly, her little piece of that beautiful island she shall never ever forget and that one boy, the first and so far only boy to hold her heart. The only one who hadn't stayed.

It had been a long five years and Wendy scoffed at how lacking in adventure they had been. Her thirteen year old self would be disgusted in the adult she had become.

Unfortunately, it was natural progression in London for a girl to be moulded in to a woman in order to attract a husband. Wendy had been groomed expertly to say all the right things, do all the right things and reflect everything a man may possibly seek in a wife. She was well educated, she was beautiful and she was polite.

Despite all of this, Wendy still found herself sitting on the window ledge in her bedroom, staring up at the looming sky and reminiscing about her adventure as she did every night. Maybe it was her way of holding on to her youth just a little longer as tightly as she could alongside the window she never ever closed, no matter how cold the night. Closing the window seemed so final, so blunt -for there was a longing in her heart even she couldn't place or name. Something deep inside of her couldn't let go of the hope that this wasn't it, that her life wasn't going to play out the way her parents hoped and the way it was expected to. Deep down, Wendy had not changed, nor did she want to. She wouldn't ever let go.

The room around her was dark, lit only by the moon perched high in the sky. At one time, this room had been a nursery and then the shared room between herself and her brothers, the same room a boy had flown in to, through the window and changed her life.

It was different now, rearranged to accommodate Wendy and her growing needs in to womanhood. A space much too big for one person but much too small for all the Darling children, especially when The Lost Boys were taken in to account. But the tall walls still held the whispering stories of her childhood, the adventures she and her brothers shared within the room. Wendy swore that sometimes, the room would quietly echo memories of times gone by, happy memories and if she listened hard enough, she could hear the ruckus of bath time and the pounding of Michael and John's feet as they tried to evade the hot water; the dull clanging of wooden swords coming in to contact with each other as stories of pirates were shouted over the endless commotion of the vast room.

Smiling softly in to the room, Wendy's eyes shone with unshed tears. She dreamed many nights of those memories, her subconscious returning to happier times -without worries, without fear and most importantly perhaps, without grown up thoughts. It was easy to regret, yet 'regret' is such a strong word. Knowing what she knew now, of growing up, would she have returned so willingly to her home, leaving Neverland behind without much of a thought except of a time well spent adventuring? Sadly, the outcome would have probably always been the same for Wendy had a very human nature, filled with empathy and realistic expectations of herself. If she had the chance to do it all again, would she? Those were the questions she always asked herself, but of the latter, she had no answer and until she was faced with such a quandary, the answer would probably continue to evade her.

Every night, for at least ten minutes, she would sit by the window and allow her mind to wander, to wonder and to replay all the events of her time in Neverland, it had become a routine she couldn't break.

But alas, that night was the same as all the others before it, filled with empty starry skies and nothing but fading memories as she readied herself for bed.

Or was it...


	2. 2

A/N - This chapter was tough. I knew how I wanted Peter and Wendy to meet again, I know how I want that chapter to play out, but getting to that point? I really struggled. So please let me know how I did.

Chapter 2 - Golden Surprises

If Wendy had stayed by the window for a couple of minutes longer, she would have noticed the little golden fleck descending from the far-off sky at a speed much too quick for the human mind to comprehend. The little golden fleck that shot erratically right towards her bedroom window.

As Wendy's tired heavy eyes succumbed to slumber, she didn't notice the flickering of gold and the quiet sound of a hundred tiny bells ringing as the small golden being hurtled towards the house, aiming for one particular room.

Suddenly there was a sharp thud against the window and Wendy sat bolt upright in bed. Confused and tired, she looked towards the vast frame that looked out over the streets of London below. Strange, she thought as she struggled to remember closing the window before retiring to bed. She never closed the window.

Gingerly, she swung her feet to the floor and made her way over to investigate.

It's probably a bird, she thought, purposely ignoring the clear dark of night.

But Wendy was never one for ignoring an animal that may be in need and dazed, so you can imagine her shock when she approached the window and was almost blinded by a brilliant golden light buzzing wildly in the cold on the other side of the glass.

It took her longer than she would have thought to recognise the flustered glowing orb outside but when she did, her heart started thumping harder than it has in a long time. Eventually, Wendy snapped back to reality and fumbled to open the window, her ears ringing as the cold brisk air hit her face and her eyes followed the speeding pixie as it burst in to the room.

"Tinkerbell?" Wendy asked shocked, not truly believing her eyes.

She watched as the small fairy righted herself on the large fireplace and brushed herself off, looking exhausted and exasperated. Motioning with her arms, Tinkerbell tried to portray something to Wendy the best she could, through little feminine noises and gestures with her small arms.

Wendy approached the fireplace upon which Tinkerbell stood and slowly outstretched her arms, palms towards the fire, trying to calm the erratic fairy down.

"Tinkerbell, I need you to calm down," Wendy spoke quietly, "you're not making any sense."

Tinkerbell stopped then, and took a large deep breath before looking up at Wendy. Slowly, she tried to articulate the only way she could, dramatically waving her limbs and using what voice she had. She pointed to Wendy.

"Me?" Wendy asked, trying to decipher and waiting for Tinkerbell to correct or affirm whether or not she was right. Tinkerbell nodded and moved on quickly, pointing to herself.

"You?"

Tinkerbell nodded again and quickly made a sweeping gesture towards the window to which Wendy followed with her eyes. When Wendy looked back towards the small fairy, Tinkerbell acted out a expertly flying mime.

"Fly? Out of the window?" Wendy questioned, her eyes widening at the prospect she was correct.

Tinkerbell nodded enthusiastically.

"But, how? Tinkerbell...why?"

Tinkerbell raised an eyebrow, quickly changing her expression to knit them both together, scowled, folded her tiny arms and stomped her tiny foot angrily causing the candle sticks upon the fireplace to rattle.

Wendy quickly tried to shush the small fairy, more than aware that everyone within the house was sleeping but knowing that all of them, especially the Lost Boys, were very light sleepers. Wendy swore they could smell adventure, even in slumber, and would come charging down the hallway at any moment, ready as always.

She watched on as Tinkerbell tried to further articulate, impersonating someone Wendy could only guess was the boy she thought she'd never see again.

"Peter?"

The small fairy nodded enthusiastically and carried on making an over exaggerated sad face and trailing her index finger down her cheek, in the form of an imaginary tear.

"Crying?" Wendy questioned, thoroughly confused. "He's sad," she stated as Tinkerbell carried on her charade.

Sad? But why would Peter Pan be sad? He was the boy with no worries, no feelings to make him so. Absolute confusion must have been evident all over Wendy's face for Tinkerbell carried on, trying her best to explain further in the dull light of the vast room.

Magicking a flower out of pixie dust, the fairy theatrically gasped as she watched the pretty bloom die in her hand. Wendy continued to stare as the theatrics carried on and Tinkerbell took to shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her tiny arms as if to stay warm.

"Flowers dying, cold..." Wendy mused before needing some sort of clarity, for her head jumped to the most awful confusion. "Tinkerbell is Neverland cold? The flowers are dying?"

At that, the small golden hued fairy dropped her hands and nodded solemnly.

Wendy felt her breath hitch in her throat. Neverland was such a beautiful warm island, filled with fun and laughter and adventure. How could it be cold and dying?

What could cause such horror in a place filled with joy?

Wendy thought back to her time in Neverland; the warm coastal breeze granting a moment of relief from the heat as she lay under a clear blue sky, the sound of the birds singing to each other from within the thick dense forest and the myriad of plant species which bloomed beautifully as they thrived in the environment. It was serene and beautiful, like a tropical paradise she had only ever experienced through her adventure stories and in her dreams. It made no sense, no sense at all that all of what she remembered had changed. It was common knowledge in Neverland that Peter could control the atmosphere and the weather. When he was happy, the sun shone bright, high in the sky and the water was calm and crystal clear. If he was angry, or sad, or upset in any way, the weather would quickly turn to reflect his inner turmoil. Wendy thought back to the time when she was aboard the Jolly Rodger, held captive by Captain Hook alongside her dear brothers and the Lost Boys -how the whole environment had changed in conjunction with the agony Peter was feeling at losing Tinkerbell, when they were all lead to believe he was dead. The water had become so choppy and rough that the boat lurched violently between the waves and the sky had clouded over, thick billowing black clouds and harsh cracks of thunder filled the air as the weather became cold and bitter, biting at their faces...

"Tinkerbell, what's wrong with Peter that's caused this change?" Wendy quickly asked, worry lacing her voice as she realised that the change in Neverland must be driven by a change in Peter and that was an awful thought to comprehend.

But Tinkerbell didn't carry on her charade, instead, she flew from the mantelpiece straight over to where Wendy stood and tried with all her might to push the much bigger girl towards the window, hurrying her along as best she could.

"But I cant fly," Wendy quickly interjected, trying her best to evade the surprising strength of the pixie by digging her heels as hard she could in to the wooden floor. "I can't get to Neverland without Peter, Tinkerbell! I'm much too big."

But Tinkerbell was doing a fine job of ignoring all of Wendy's advances and logic as she managed, albeit slowly, to push the larger girl towards the open window.

Almost falling, Wendy quickly righted herself at the window ledge when Tinkerbell finally gave up with her shoving and flew to face older almost-woman. A solemn little fairy looked directly in to Wendy's eyes, silently pleading and it was then Wendy realised, if Tinkerbell had taken it upon herself to come and ask for help, especially from someone she disliked quite as much as Wendy, it must be serious. Or serious enough to Tinkerbell.

It was at that moment Wendy realised, whatever Tinkerbell's plan was, she would go along with it. She would try with all her might to help.

So she stood still, feeling the cold winter breeze gnaw at her face and feet as she watched the small fairy dance around her head, showering her with pixie dust. It didn't take long before Wendy felt the ground beneath her feet fall away, as she rose unceremoniously in to the air and turned to take one final look in to her dark bedroom, wondering how long it would be before she would be back.

"I truly hope you know what you're doing, Tinkerbell," Wendy sighed, more to herself than anyone else, her reservations not ebbing as the golden pixie shrugged her shoulders and crossed her minuscule fingers almost mockingly and giggling as Wendy's eyes widened.

But regardless of all her worries, she knew she had to try. There was no other option, she'd do anything for Peter Pan.

She was returning to Neverland.


End file.
